


Not In Love.

by ImmortalAdolescent



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Cas is a little shit, Fluff, Hate to Love, Jealousy, M/M, Marijuana, Masturbation, Neighbors, Pining, Smoking, Smut, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-03-29 18:52:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3906919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImmortalAdolescent/pseuds/ImmortalAdolescent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester lives a happy, content life with his job and his somewhat nice apartment...</p><p>Except his crappy neighbor is a complete douchbag who needs to stop playing his music really loud and smoking illegal substances and No, Dean does not have a crush the size of texas on the hot asshole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Hey You"

"Hey you! out there on your own,  
sitting naked by the phone would you touch me.  
Hey you! with your ear against the wall,  
Waiting for someone to call out would you touch me.  
Hey you! would you help me to carry the stone.  
Open your heart, I'm coming home.

♦Pink Floyd - Hey You♦

 

-

It started around seven o'clock, the slightly too loud muttering of people. Raised voices carried through the walls and window as if they had any place in Dean's apartment. Shortly after, the thumping began.

The loud base shaking the walls as a male voice rapped about things Dean couldn’t even understand. Dean sighed as he settled down in to his comfy leather sofa, turning his TV up to a normally intolerable level.

His neighbor was a complete fucking dickbag. He told himself this every time loud voices and thumpy base's overpowered any noise in Dean’s apartment. This happened almost twice a week, sometimes in the weekday.

He was perhaps a little lenient tonight considering it was a Saturday and honestly he could mind the sound, it was the constant shake and vibration of the base they had on that pissed him off the most.

He could feel a headache starting already and the party had only just begun.

It sucks arse, and not in the good way. It sucks because there was absolutely nothing he could do about it; call the police _'we don’t come out for noise disturbances'_. Go to the landlord and he doesn’t gives a rat’s arse. He was fucked.

So instead he cooked pizza, surfed through his channels until he came across a good sci-fi film starring Johnny Depp, who could say no to a Depp film, dude was sexy for a fifty year old.

The noise eventually got drowned out by Dean’s attention to Johnny becoming a super computer.

 

♦

 

The film finished sometime after eleven, he was mesmerised by how interesting and different it was.

He was filled with satisfaction at his choice of film right up until he turned the TV off to head to bed...

With the TV off, the loud music was the most prominent sound and it was beating hard against the walls as if it was trying to break through.

He pulled himself up from the couch and made his way to the window, opening it up to peak out. The music was louder now, some guy rapping about being _'in love with the coco'_ or whatever the fuck that meant.

There were voices almost shouting at each other so they could hear over the music.

It was fricken ridiculous.

It wouldn’t of been so bad if it was good fucking music, but this crap was unbearable, there was no way he was sleeping tonight.

"God damnit" he muttered as he slammed the window shut, it dulled the music a little but not nearly enough for Deans liking.

"You know what, screw it" he groaned to his dark living room.

His desire to sleep suddenly turned into adrenaline, beating a song through his veins. He was going to confront his shitty neighbor once and for all...

He left the lounge, into the hallway, stopped by the mirror just to check he looked intimidating enough. He stared at his reflection, he could probably ditch the thick dark square rimmed glasses. But then again Charlie did always say they brought out his 'pretty' eyes more, and he would be partially blind without them.

He didn’t know what he was up against, he’s never actually met the dickbag next door, but he smiled to himself, knowing full well that he looked damn good. If all else failed perhaps he could flirt his way to getting the music to stop.

He grabbed his dark teal leather jacket off the door handle to his coat cupboard, put it on and rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, showing off the tattoos that covered his arms. He wanted his neighbour to see just how badass he could be, I mean he had a goddamn colt tattooed on his right arm, what’s more badass than that? I mean sure, there’s a few stars surrounding it and he has feathers tattooed on his neck but he could admit to his self that they brought out his eyes and made him look 10x hotter. He was ready.

He left his apartment unlocked as he strolled down the corridor (he was only going next door after all) he had to walk through two push doors before he got to the apartment that shared a wall with his living room.

Stood right outside his neighbours door, the music was so much more louder, he could practically see the door vibrating from the loudness. Jesus Christ, dude must have it on full fucking volume, was ridiculous.

He brought his hand up and knocked hard three times, nothing. Of course because there was a goddamn rave or some weed induced shit going on inside if the strong repugnant smell was anything to go by. His knocks were like a light breeze compared to the hurricane happening on the other side.

He tried the doorbell, thinking that it would do jack shit and was pleasantly surprised when the door finally opened.

And all his breath left him.

Holy fucking shit, who the fuck was this handsome little shit with a huge grin on his face. Dark messy hair that looked like the dude had spent the night fucking and bright blue eyes that were made for staring in to the soul, shit. Dean was screwed.

Dean couldn’t help but let his eyes wonder over the other man, who was wearing a red and navy plaid shirt with a fricken slim black tie, like the tie was meant to make him look goddamn innocent which was totally impossible due to the guys mess of sex hair. The shirt was tucked into skinny black jeans that were fastened with a smooth black belt. Dean’s eyes lingered on the guys rolled up sleeves and the amazingly detailed tattoos that told a story all the way up his arms.

Did he mention that he was screwed?

Dean met the guy’s eyes which was so intense that he had to look down at the black eye tattoo in the centre of the dude’s throat

He cleared his own throat about to speak when the guy gets there first, "You want to come in?" The guy practically shouts and listening to that deep gravelly voice brings back his senses. The bitter scent of marihuana hits his nose and the music hurts his ears and head, he cringes.

"No-" Dean’s voice comes out quiet in his shyness, adrenaline suddenly gone due to the attraction. He clears his throat.

"Do you live here?" He asks, practically shouting to be heard.

The man just smiles, his eyes look hazy and Dean knows he’s high. Then the guys coming forward, shutting the door behind him to muffle the loud music a little. "Who's askin'?" The guy slurs with a flirtatious smile, his eyes drooping a little but never leaving Deans.

Dean rolls his eyes, wishing he was anywhere but here right now having to deal with this craziness, perhaps he should have just cut the guys electric cable from the main box downstairs, shit. That would have been such a better plan.

"Dean Winchester, I live down the hall, my living room shares a wall with yours..." He’s tired and grumpy and realises that there is no way this guy is going to agree.

"Ooooh..." The guy smiles wider, "Deeeean-" he mocks, "-Let me guess, you want me to shu'up an turn the mooosic down-" the guy takes a step closer, way too close, "- well that’s not goin' to happen now is it, so why don’t you come on in and I'll show you how to have a little fun?" And then he tries to wink but he’s so fucking out of it that it just turns in to a stupid sort of long blink.

"Yeah that’s not gonna happen, I just want some sleep, and since you’re an asshole, good fuckin' night dickbag!"

Dean slouches off back to his apartment, the hazy smell of weed following after him. That was pointless.

He manages to get to sleep that night, but it’s a restless sleep that he keeps waking up to every two or so hours by the thudding of music against his walls.

He wakes again around five-ish, the sky outside has turned from dark to navy blue, there’s a few birds chirping lightly. But what really gets his attention is the fact that his walls are not jumping anymore, there’s no more ridiculous music (if you could even call it that) with crappy lyrics. It’s completely peaceful, for some reason he smiles at the silence and then he’s dragging the comforter up his naked torso and falling back to sleep again.

 

* * *

 

After that very unfortunate, embarrassing night, Dean expected to go on like normal and never see his neighbor again.

If only it could be that simple...


	2. "Keep Talking"

I feel like I'm drowning  
You know I can't breathe now  
We're going nowhere  
We're going nowhere

♦Pink Floyd - Keep Talking♦

 

_Hands everywhere, fingers trailing up and down his naked body. He gasps, loud. The sensation of a thousand little touches sending electric up his nerves. The sensation builds till it’s everywhere at once and then its filling him up. Oh so perfect. Hitting every pleasure spot at once._

_He moans. Blue. Bright blue eyes that could drown him because they’re as deep as the ocean._

 

Dean is pulled out of his dream by a loud knock on his door. A loud, persistent knock.

He groans. It was Sunday for god’s sake, no one messed with his lie in on a Sunday. If it was Sammy he was going to kick that gigantors butt.

If it was Charlie he was going straight back to bed, she can sit on his sofa and play Mario kart or something?

He pulled himself out of his comfy cocoon miserably, reluctant to leave his silky sheets. He grunts as another knock comes.

"M'comin'" he grumbles loudly and lethargically as he adjusts his morning wood in his too tight boxers, grabbing his glasses off the bedside table as a second thought. Goddamn impatient human he thought as he placed his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

He pulled the door open, only to wish he kind of hadn’t bothered.

His sexy neighbor was stood in his doorway with a small smile on his face. Dean raked his eyes quickly up and down, taking in the sight before him. His neighbor was wearing running shorts and a stupid baggy styled, black wife beater that showed of his full tattoo sleeves. His hair the same mess as last night with a hint of sweat. Judging by the trainers and armband with his iPod attached, dude had been working out.

The sight makes his dick twitch, going from half hard to full on peak. He suddenly becomes aware of his state of dress, or lack of it, his naked torso on show. He scrambles behind the door shyly, his head poking around the edge.

"Hey there, I just got back from my morning jog and I was feeling kind of shitty about last night and well, I brought a peace offering." And that’s when Dean notices the plate with aluminium foil over the top of it in the guy’s hands. Said plate now being offered to him.

As nice a gesture it was, Dean still kind of hates the guy. "What the heck is it?" He asks

"Brownies." His neighbor replies with a toothy white smile. God is that smile gorgeous.

Brownies? Eh. Dean thinks. He’s more of a pie kind of guy. Still, now he has something sweet to snack on without getting moaned at by his brother, because hey, it was a gift. "Uh, Thanks? I guess." Dean mumbles, he doesn’t want to be thanking this jackass.

"My pleasure Jean."

What the fuck did he just call me? Oh god he’s still high isn’t he, fan-fucking-tastic. "Jean?" Dean frowns.

Those blue eyes, the same ones from his fucking dream, stare up at him questioningly "That is your name isn’t it? I vaguely remember you saying so last night."

Dean giggles a little, of course he got his name muddled up. "Dean, you idiot."

"Oh. That sounds so much better, you defiantly look more like a Dean.” There’s that smile again. “And excuse you, I am not unintelligent, my mind was taking a rest last night."

Dean shakes his head with a smile. "Yeah sure thing Snoop Dog, you can leave now, thanks for the brownies but you're still a dick." Dean is about to shut the door...

"My names Castiel." The guy offers in an agitated tone.

"Casti-what now?" Ha no wonder this guy likes getting high off his head so much, clearly his parents were on some crazy shit when they named him.

"Castiel." The guy huffs.

"Okay, well thanks Castiel.-" Dean says sarcastically then adds as an afterthought “-How about as a peace offering you stop playing your shitty music so the whole neighbourhood can hear.” He ends it by shutting the door a little bit too hard.

Dean takes the brownies in to his kitchen and places them on the counter. Well at least now he doesn’t have to make breakfast. He removes the foil and takes in the gooey chocolate squares, they look amazing.

Except that’s when Dean remembers that very distinctive weed smell that takes up most of Castiel’s corridor, What if these are? No he wouldn’t, would he?

He’s out the door with the plate of brownies and banging on Castiel’s door before he can even think straight.

"Hello Dean." Castiel’s gravelly voice says as he opens the door in nothing but a towel and his body wet from the shower Dean had clearly interrupted. Dean can’t help but take in the muscles and those goddamm beautiful hip bones and all the tattoos in between. Why couldn’t his neighbor be gross and ugly?

"You gave me fucking hash brownies?" Dean accuses in a deep growl.

Castiel looks up from staring at Dean’s naked chest (shit he forgot to put clothes on, again). “Dean, I’m offended that you would think so little of me,” His voice has a playful tone to it and he’s smirking. “Did you eat one?” he adds.

“Well judging on your character, yes, I believe you would give me pot brownies. And no, thank fuck. Speaking of which –“Dean holds the plate out. “-You can have these back.”

Castiel just rolls his eyes but takes the plate anyway. “Would it kill you to have a little fun?”

Dean glares at his neighbour. “You’ve literally known me less than twelve hours, how do you know I can’t have fun.”

“The fact that within those twelve hours, you have turned down both my attempts of pursuing you.” Castiel says in a serious tone.

“Hey buddy, heads up, dosing people up with weed isn’t how you go about _pursuing_ them.”

“Well it has worked up till now, thank you very much.” Castiel huffs, clearly annoyed at being turned down. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I was in the middle of something, and quite frankly I’m struggling to contain myself with you stood there looking like god damn Adonis.” And then the door is slamming in Dean’s face and Dean kind of feels bad for doing the same to Cas earlier.

“Shit.” Dean mutters as he heads back to his own apartment. His sexy as fuck neighbour was trying to get in his pants and he turned him down, twice.

 

If Dean goes straight back to bed and spends half an hour jerking off to the thought of strong muscles, tattoos and extremely blue eyes… Well, no one has to know, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading.
> 
> If you like the story so far please give it Kudos and I will give you brownieees ☺  
> If you want to keep up with the story, Please subscribe.
> 
> ♥


	3. "Let me Know..."

"It's always tease tease tease  
You're happy when I'm on my knees  
One day is fine and next is black  
So if you want me off your back  
Well come on an' let me know  
Should I Stay or should I go?"

♦The Clash - Should I Stay Or Should I Go?♦

 

 

Dean doesn’t see or hear from his neighbor for weeks, not that he cares. It’s not like he lingers at his mail box in the morning or walks up the stairs to his apartment as slow as possible in hope that he might bump in to Cas accidently.

It’s not like his whole body sort of aches with disappointment when he doesn’t see the attractive mess of dark hair and intense blue eyes. It’s actually really frustrating.

Dean doesn’t do ‘crushes’ but damn was he being crushed by his feelings that had bloomed for Castiel since he first saw him. He’s more of the fuck and chuck kind of guy. Which sounds awful but his libido needs to be fulfilled with something other than his right hand and he just doesn’t do feelings… until now.

It makes no sense considering he hardly even knows the damn guy apart from the fact that he likes to smoke dope, listen to annoying rap music, drive this ugly arse 1978 Lincoln Continental in goddamn gold (a pimp car basically), oh and he’s really fucking hot.

Dean can’t figure out why he keeps getting urges to make his existence known to his neighbor, to just want his attention. Or why the heck he keeps thinking about going next door and kissing the heck out of the guy. Maybe it’s because Castiel is so different from anyone Dean has ever met.

Whatever it is, it needs to go away, fast.

Charlie won’t leave him alone about it either. He knows that she is his best friend but sometimes he really regrets telling her. She practically squealed when he brought it up and told him that he should totally be ‘tapping’ that.

She also has this habit of sneaking up on him when he’s working on a car at the auto shop, with really inappropriate questions like ‘have you seen him again?’ ‘have you kissed your neighbor yet?’ and that one time when it was ‘have you and Castiel fucked yet?’ which made Dean snap his head up to glare at her which ended in him banging his head on the hood of the car he was working on. She proceeded to make fun of the lump that cultivated on his head and stayed for a couple of days.

The bittersweet confusing thoughts about his neighbor seem to consume his mind for weeks. He wished he hadn’t met the arsehole but on one hand he kind of wished he got to see him more.

Cas has been radio-silent. Which Dean was sort of really happy about because it means he was sleeping better. It was nice to come home during the week from a long day repairing cars and having Bobby grunt at him to hear silence instead of the loud thump of music that penetrated every wall of the apartment building. But it also kind of irritated Dean, he wanted to see Cas again, or everyday if possible.

 ♦

 

It was a quiet Wednesday night when he finally saw Castiel for the first time in like a month. He had just got back from the garage, grubby and in desperate need of a shower. But he always checks his mail before heading up to his apartment, just like normal.

What wasn’t normal was his extremely attractive neighbor coming up to him with a really worried look on his face. Dean closed and locked his mail box.

“Dean I need a favor?” Cas asked gently, and shit did Dean forget how husky his voice was.

“What’s up?” Dean replied, slightly anxious by the look on Cas’ face.

Cas stepped right into his personal space, pushing him up against the mailboxes and leaning in to him. “I’m so sorry for what is about to happen.” Cas whispered right next to Dean’s ear, hot breath hitting the side of his face.

Then Cas was kissing him.

Dean didn’t know what the fuck to do. He was caught off guard to even register the lips pressing against his at first. He kind of wanted to push him away because seriously, what the fuck?

But then Cas was running his tongue along his bottom lip and bringing his hands up to grip Dean’s hair, practically smushing his glasses into his face. Dean couldn’t help but open his mouth to allow the kiss to deepen. He let out a moan when Cas’ tongue did something that felt amazing inside his mouth.

This was not how he thought this evening would go.

All his blood rushed south, pleasure alighting everywhere at once until he could feel his erection pressed in to Cas’ muscly thigh. He couldn’t help but rock his hips when his hot neighbor placed his leg between Dean’s naturally parted legs.

They pulled apart for air and that’s when all Dean’s senses came back, blood pounding in his ears as well as an unknown voice he could just about make out. “What the fuck is this Castiel?” the male voice was demanding.

Dean opened his eyes as his neighbor let him go from where he had him pushed up against the lockers, Dean’s back protesting at the imprint of a lock shaped indent in his back. Fuck.

Dean was half disappointed yet half relieved when Cas pulled away. Kind of wanting his leg back to grind against and finish what they started. He awkwardly brought one hand up to re-adjust his now wonky glasses.

He realised he was panting, a little out of breath from the kiss and the shock. He brought the hand down to wipe the saliva from his lips.

The guy was as tall as Dean about 6’1, with dark styled hair and green eyes. He stood with good posture and wore a black leather jacket, he looked like a fucking douchebag.

“Who is this tool?” the guy asked. And Dean stood up straight, adjusting his rucked up zeppelin top. He did not just say that. He was about to defend himself when Cas jumped in.

“Dean is not a tool, he’s my boyfriend actually.” Dean turned to look at his neighbor, was he fucking high again? He didn’t look it. In fact, he looked really fricken good with tight black jeans, a neat light blue button down, untucked and a baggy navy cardigan with the sleeves pushed up to show off his tattoos. His hair was a fucking mess (like always) and Dean’s half hard cock gave a little twitch.

He was about to protest when he considered the situation. Cas looking worried just before asking a favor and kissing this shit out of him. This arsehole showing up who clearly knew Cas really well. Cas pretending Dean was his boyfriend. This guy looked jealous. Must be an _ex_ then, a very shitty ex if Cas was desperate to prove he had a boyfriend.

Dean didn’t owe Cas anything, especially not this. Castiel was a douchebag himself. A very attractive douchebag who Dean kind of hates but also is kind of pining for. Shit.

“Yeah, and pigs fly.” The guy laughed, clearly not believing Cas for some reason.

Dean wasn’t really sure why he did it, maybe he just wanted this dick to go away, or maybe he felt sorry for Cas, or maybe he just really wanted to. Anyway, he took a step forward and entwined his right hand with Cas’ left. He gave Cas’ warm hand a squeeze.

Cas turned to look at him, eyes soft with affection and Dean got caught up in deep blue.

“I know you were never very intelligent Michael, but can’t you see I’m infatuated with someone else –“ Cas turned to look at _Michael,_ “- I’m not interested, and I haven’t been for months.”

“You heard him mikey, door’s behind you.” Dean added with a cheeky grin, just to piss the guy off more.

Michael pointed a hard finger at Cas, his gaze deadly. “This isn’t fucking over, you hear me Castiel Novak.” Then he left, door slamming behind him.

Dean dropped Cas’ hand. “What the heck was that about?” he practically shouted, annoyance overtaking his mind.

Cas sighed heavily. “Nothing you need to concern yourself about.” His neighbor mumbled before walking over to his mail box to get his mail.

Dean was fucking pissed now, he didn’t just help Cas out to be treated like a bit of shit in return. “I think it concerns me when I haven’t seen you for weeks and you just storm on in here and kiss me like that. Oh and not to mention the fact that now apparently I’m your boyfriend.”

Cas slammed his mail box shut, turning to glare at Dean. Practically shouting back at Dean “It’s none of your goddamn business, I told you in advance I was sorry for what was about to happen-“ his neighbor took a breath before lowering his voice. “I still am sorry, I didn’t mean to proposition you like that, Michael is-“ Cas dropped his gaze. “I didn’t know what to do, I just panicked and you were there.”

He snapped his head up to look at Dean again. “You know what, fuck you Dean Winchester, I don’t have to explain myself to you, you aren’t actually my boyfriend.” Then he was running up the stairs and away from Dean.

Dean huffed out a breath. That ended horribly.

Whoever Michael was must of hurt Cas pretty bad. That thought just angered him more. Although it shouldn’t, Cas was his crazy, annoying, dickbag neighbor. He didn’t even know the guy, like at all.

But then why heck did it feel like his stomach has been ripped away from his body?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to end this chapter fluffy and smutty and then I realised that I wanted to drag the hate out a little longer:-)
> 
> I'm going to try and update sometime in the week with a longer chapter.   
> Thanks for reading:)♥


	4. "Dangerous game."

"I've got the heart of hustler  
I'm playing a dangerous game

The mind says no sir  
But the body says please  
The heart stays silent  
Such a silent tease"

♦Josef Salvat - Hustler♦

 

By Saturday the thunderous music was back. It was inevitable really. Dean had waited for it since Wednesday night, anticipated it every night as he got in from work. He huffed loudly from his couch as the music randomly blasted. He decided to leave his apartment and went around Sammy’s to annoy his little brother.

When he got back at eleven-ish the music was louder somehow, some guy rapping again to some lame computerized tune. Dean hated it.

He had had such a good night with Sam and Jess that he was pissed. He had forgot the reason he left his apartment in the first place and just wanted to go to sleep but with the volume of the music, there was no way it was stopping until the early hours.

Dean climbed the stairs eagerly, considering how the music was making him regret coming home at all, perhaps he should have stayed on the couch at Sam’s, damnit.

He stands outside of Cas’ place, the music booming in his ears, he groans. It’s so frustrating that the guy he likes has to be the most annoying human in the whole world. He doesn’t bother knocking, instead he just tries the door handle, and what do ya know, the door opens.

The whole place is hazy as fuck. The smoke hits his eyes and they water, holy shit, he coughs a little. He trudges in anyway, eyes adjusting to the diluted air, he looks around as best as he can. The lights are dim but through the smoke he sees a girl and boy making out in the hallway. He walks past them, avoids where he assumes the bedrooms will be (based on his own apartment).

He turns the corner in to the living room. There’s only a handful of people in the room which is also full of smoke, which has that repugnant B.O smell to it which can only be identified as marijuana. There’s two guys laid out on the couch, one has a girl on his lap, two other girls draped over them from where they rest on the floor.

On the couch opposite, two guys are grinding together, one sat on top of the other nuzzling in to each other’s necks, there’s thick smoke coming from that direction and when his eyes adjust he can see the guy sat back on the couch with a lit spliff, shotgunning the smoke in to the guy on his laps mouth. It’s kind of disgusting and the air is making him want to be sick but he also can’t deny the hard on he’s sporting at the sight, it’s hot and he forgets why he burst in here in the first place.

He can’t see Cas through the smoke and it makes him frown. Right up until hands slowly wind round his hips from behind, a body pushed to his back. He should freak out, this could be some random arsehole too high to realise what he’s doing. But Dean knows. He just knows its Cas.

He should probably push him away, shout at him to turn the music down and then get the hell out of dodge. There’s alcohol and drugs spewed in different corners of the room, this is not a nice atmosphere and totally out of his comfort zone. But he can’t.

Wednesday night has been playing through his head constantly, if he closes his eyes and thinks hard enough he can still remember Cas’ lips on his. It makes something in the pit of his stomach buzz and twist in pleasure. Excitement. The ghost of those lips haunt him but it’s not unwelcome.

He lets his head fall back on Cas’ shoulder, lets him rock his hips with Cas’ to the sway of the crappy music that Dean hates. Cas’ heavy breath is on his ear as he whispers in that deep tone “Hello Dean,” It sends a thrill of pleasure down his body that pools deep in his groin. Cas must sense It because he brings a hand down to cup Dean, rubbing his hand in a soft circle. Dean moans.

He forgets everything, for a minute the music isn’t blaring, the air doesn’t smell of weed, his eyes aren’t watering. For a moment, It’s all just Cas and pleasure and it feels so good. But then Dean realises where he is and what is happening. He moans as the hand carries on rubbing against him and the other hand trails up to rub at his nipple through his top. Holy shit.

No. this is wrong.

It’s hard to pull away, but he does. He wants Cas so bad and as easy as it would be to let his body crave and give in, he just cant. He turns around to face his neighbour and Cas is pouting. He looks good, sexy as hell with low slung jeans and his button down open to reveal his impossibly attractive chest. Cas moves forward as if to grab him again, Dean’s hit in the face with that gross smell, Cas stinks of weed. “Not like this Cas.” He whispers in to Cas’ ear, he pulls away looking Cas straight in the eye.

Cas nods reluctantly, which surprises Dean. The guy may be high as the sky but at least he knows that no means no. Dean smirks. This whole thing is crazy, he doesn’t even know how he got himself in this situation. He’s stood in a room of stoners with R&B blasting in his ears, weed polluting the air. And the man behind it all is stood in front of him, completely oblivious to what he does to Dean.

Which is a fucking myth all on its own. Why the fuck does Dean like this guy so much? He’s a goddamn crack head with a weird life and weird friends but Dean can’t shake the pit in his stomach. He likes Cas, way too much for his own good. It’s driving him crazy.

Cas is smirking right on back, like he can read Dean’s mind and Dean laughs. What a dork.

He moves towards the sound system, which (as Dean predicted) is some kind of intimidating system that connects to massive speakers which are probably decked out around the whole apartment if the echo and base of the music is anything to go by. He locates the volume button easily and turns it down to a reasonable level, he thinks twice and also turns the base down too.

No one in the room even notices, to out of their minds to even care.

Everyone except Cas. Dean moves back over to him.

“Why’d you do ‘hat’ for?” he asks grumpily.

“I’m going to bed Cas, the music doesn’t need to be loud enough to be heard through every wall of the building, ‘k?” Then Dean kisses him on the cheek and is out the door faster than lightening.

-

Sundays are Dean’s favourite day of the week. What’s better than lying in bed and chilling? Sleeping of the ache of the week is a blessing. Sam used to come round for dinner but ever since he moved in with Jessica, it doesn’t really happen, sometimes Dean will go to theirs for dinner. He’s not complaining, Sundays are awesome whether he has plans or he’s just relaxing.

After he turned the music down at Cas’ last night and it stayed down, he managed to get ten hours sleep, a true blessing. He thinks back to last night, it all seems a little hazy now, but certain things are clear.

The way Cas had touched him is very clear.

He shifts in his bed, aware of his morning wood pressing against the band of his boxer briefs under all the white sheets. Damn.

He thinks about the way Cas’ hands moved along his body, soft yet firm. He tries to picture those same hand on his naked chest now. He shuts his eyes and trails his own hands from his hips to his nipples, pretending there Cas’ hands connected to his beautiful tattooed arms. He images looking down and seeing Cas perched over him. His thumbs teasing Dean’s nipples at the same time. He sighs heavily. His cock jerks with pleasure.

He loves this. Teasing himself with his own touch before putting his hands where they need him most. It makes orgasming so much better.

He brings one thumb up to his mouth, eyes tightly shut, pretending its Cas’, he sucks a little bit to eagerly. Then his brings the wet digit down to his nipple and rubs lightly in a circle, when the cold air of the bedroom hits, it makes the little bud perk and sends bursts of pleasure through his body. He does the same to the other nipple, imagines Cas sucking on it, teasing him with soft licks. He pinches at it and imagines it’s Cas’ teeth. He can’t help the moan that slips out.

He lets his hands travel back south with a soft trail down his tattooed abs. The thrill adding to the pleasure building. He kicks the comforter down with his feet and basks in the cool air that hits his over sensitive, hot body. He uses his hand to shimmy his boxers down his hips and kicks those off too.

Then he’s naked completely. His slightly tanned skin and dark tattoo’s a contrast to the very white covers. His cock lays flat against his stomach, the tip reaches half way to his belly button. He imagines that little smirk Cas pulls, Cas would be impressed at his dick, he knows it. The little shit is the type to get sappy about shit like that, he can tell.

He brings a hand to the base of his cock, and rubs a little. He uses the same hand to massage his scrotum, slowly, soft yet just the right pressure that he lets out a grunt. Feels so good. His other hand stays still at his side as he starts to wrap his other around his cock and pump gently upwards and back down again, no pressure.

Dean thinks Cas would tease him like that until he moans and begs.

He tightens his hand and pumps harder, imagining Cas whispering in his ear, _you like that don’t you baby, I like watching you touch yourself like that._ He moans a little louder, his hand pumps up and down a little faster.

 _C’mon Dean, wanna see you come for me._ The Cas in his head whispers darkly. And Dean keeps moving his hand over his cock, using his thumb to brush over the head on every upwards thrust. Precome drippling out and making it feel so much better.

He moans thinking about Cas watching him but not touching.

 _Yeah_ , Cas says. _Just Like that Dean_. _Gonna be so pretty when you come, baby. God, makes me so hot, watching you do this. You like it don’t you? You like touching yourself for me?_

“Yes!” Dean half shouts, half whispers. “Yes Cas, please, oh god, so good.” He’s babbling because he’s so close.

He jacks himself faster, massaging the head of his dick all the way down to his balls.

He comes quick with a shout of _Cas_ and groans in satisfaction as his cock spurts.

He inhales, greedily taking in oxygen and then lets it out again with a happy sigh.

That was fucking amazing. 

It beats all the other times he's imagined Cas as he jacked off, and he still doesnt really know the guy, fucking hell.


	5. "Just Like Heaven..."

"Why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you,  
That I'm in love with you.  
  
You  
Soft and only  
You  
Lost and lonely  
You  
Strange as angels."

♦The Cure - Just Like Heaven♦

 

Dean doesn’t regret thinking about Cas as he fucks his palm and spills all over his hand. It kind of becomes to much of routine to feel guilty. Cas is too damn attractive for his own good. It becomes so bad that when he’s out at a bar trying to pick someone up, all he can think is that their eyes aren’t blue enough, their smile isn’t right, they aren’t ignorant enough.

Its frustrating that he comes home alone and fucks himself to sleep with a dildo from the box under his bed. Completely unsatisfied.

He hates Cas, cant fucking stand the guy. Except that’s a lie.

He doesn’t hate Cas, in fact he’s trying to tell himself that so it blocks out the thoughts that he actually really likes him. He cant stop thinking about Cas. Its driving him crazy to the point where he doesn’t know what to do with himself and the frustration turns into grumpy anger.

He drives himself to work bright and early Monday morning, and doesn’t realise he’s pushed his Metallica tape in to the cassette deck and is humming along. He only listens to Metallica when he’s angry and needs some form of control. Fuck.

He pulls up at the auto shop just before eight and shoves in the front door a little bit to hard that it slams behind him. Charlie immediately lifts her head from the front desk and frowns.

She must sense something. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” She mocks to cheerfully for Deans liking.

He rolls his eyes in response and thinks maybe if he had woke up pushed up against his tall, dark and handsome neighbor, he wouldn’t feel so stressed.

Charlie gets up from her chair and follows him out back to the kitchen. “You want to talk about it?” she asks as he pushes the switch on the coffee maker. He just wants some damn coffee, too early to think about feelings and mushy thoughts. He tries to grab a mug from the cupboard but Charlie pushes him away. “Go sit down you giant baby, I’ve got this.”

She brings over a steaming mug of black coffee and he sighs happily until he realises that he doesn’t really feel up for smiling and his face falls again. He feels like a fucking teenager.

He rests his hands around the steaming hot cup, the warmth seeping in to his palms and offering a weird kind of comfort.

“So I’m going to go out on a limb and assume this is about Castiel, right?”

Dean nods. He looks up then and his best friend offers him a kind smile. “Com’on, spill Winchester, we don’t have all day and Bobby will come kick are arse’s if we don’t open up on time.”

“Okay okay, so pushy.” He shakes his head with a small smile, he takes a gulp of his still too hot coffee and winces a little. “I urm- I kind of really fucking like him, and its driving me goddamn crazy.”

“Wow, the great one night stand king who doesn’t do feelings has got a crush on his hot neighbor, I knew it.” She giggles and then fist pumps the air “Good for you bro.”

“Good for me? Hes a fucking arsehole Charlie and my mind seems to find that irresistible for some unknown reason.” Dean huffs angrily, his hands tensing into fists on the table.

“Look dude, it’s a crush, they’re called crushes for a reason okay-“ her tone light and comforting offers Dean some ease and his fists unclench. “- They fucking suck, I would know, now you know how I felt with Dorothy for months. But hey look at us now, happy as can be and the sex is great.”

“Charlie.” He whines, but his mood has almost disappeared at her words and he feels a little lighter.

“What, it’s true. You will sort this out Dean; I promise and everything will be okay.” She smiles and rests her hand on his arm, giving a gentle squeeze.

“Thanks Charlie.” He offers with his first genuine smile of the morning.

“Alright ya idjits, ya done, can we actually do some work now?” Bobby’s voice trails in from the doorway and then he appears with a gruff smile.

“Aye Aye Captain.” Charlie laughs and slips past Bobby.

Dean rolls his eyes and makes his move to get up and past his boss, the old man lays a reassuring hand on his shoulder as he passes and he knows that he was listening to their whole conversation.

Its Bobby’s way of offering his support and it makes Deans feel that little bit more okay and he takes a deep breath.

Okay, so he has crush. He can deal with that, I mean sure it might like hurt like hell especially considering that Cas has some major issues and probably will never ever feel the same way about Dean that Dean feels for him. Totally controllable, he will just have to try and avoid the other man until his feelings go away.

Except that doesn’t happen because apparently someone up above is trying to fuck him good and proper and of course the exact opposite of what he wants has to happen instead.

 

-

Somehow Castiel is everywhere these days, and there isn’t a week that goes by that Dean doesn’t see the guy.

It starts of simple; he sees him in the hallway of their apartment building. He’s just about to pick Sam up to go out to the movies. It’s eight in the evening on a Thursday and as he pushes through one of the push doors in his building he sees Cas exiting the building to.

He has to stop when he sees him because what the actual heck. He’s wearing these really skinny black jeans that have a rip in them that exposes his whole right knee, but that’s not what gets your eye, it’s his goddamn hoodie.

It looks like he was attacked by that stupid neon, nian, nyan cat (that’s the one) that Charlie showed him years ago. Holy hell. It a tye dye rainbow mess.

“Good god, what is that thing?" He asks looking at Cas' monstrosity of a jumper.

"It’s my stoner jacket." Cas replies casually, looking down at himself.

"Its fucking awful is what it is." Dean replies, swinging his keys round his finger on his key chain, trying to avoid looking at Cas because he really doesn’t want to get lost in the galaxy of blue that is his eyes. He can see Cas’ hair is a mess again, he wants to run his fingers through it.

He really needs to get off that train of thought immediately.

“Hey now, that’s not very nice.” Cas mumbles, but he’s smiling as if he liked Dean’s insult.

“I know it’s not buddy, it’s an eye sore.”

There’s a moment of silence and Dean can’t help but look up and just like he knew would happen he’s lost in those pretty eyes and somehow this non-existent gravitational pull has made them move closer and why the hell are they standing so close?

Cas gives him that cute fucking smirk and then of course Dean is smiling right back and his right hand is betraying him as it comes out to fiddle with the zip on Cas’ hoodie which is done up half way.

“You want to come get high with me?” Cas whispers seductively and it sends a bolt of pleasure through Dean.

“U-urm, I can’t, I urh, have plans-” He takes a deep breath. “-With my brother, sorry Cas, ‘nother time maybe?” He takes a step back and tries to ignore the sadness that fits in to the creases and lines of Cas’ face. He’s probably just disappointed that Dean won’t be there for him to hit on when he’s high.

“Okay,-“ Cas says and turns to leave when he suddenly changes his mind. He turns quickly and smiles at Dean. “-Hey this is going to sound a bit incongruous but I was wondering if I could use your cell real quick?”

“What’s wrong with yours?” Dean asks but fishes his own phone out of his back pocket anyway.

“I left it in my apartment because it’s dead.”

“Oh okay, sure thing man.” He passes it over.

And that’s the start of something new entirely.

-

Because now he has Cas’ number programmed in to his goddamn phone under the title ‘Angel’ because apparently his neighbor is a fricken comedian.

And so he starts debating to himself what he should do, call, text, ignore?

Ignore is probably the smartest of those options what with his now extremely undeniable crush.

His drunken mind makes the decision for him though…

He thought it would be smart to go out and get laid, or to at least try and get some. Except he has trouble because all he can think about is his sexy arsehole of a neighbour, which results in a lot of heavy drinking to the point where he can just about walk straight, the bartender cuts him off eventually and takes his car keys.

He miserably makes his way back home, his feet dragging along the sidewalk. What is normally a 10 minute walk, ends up being a half hour.

He plonks down on his bed when he manages to finally get the key in the lock to his apartment (after his third shaken try). And he just wants to pass out and sleep this mess off. Except his mind wont let him. He lays atop all the sheets with his clothes and shoes still on and thinks about what his shitty life has come to; can’t even get laid anymore.

Cas pops in to his thoughts, those blue eyes and that messy dark hair. He groans.

He debates getting up and stumbling over to Cas’s apartment, he’s probably stoned or something. He doesn’t even know what the fucking time is.

He pulls his phone from his pocket and checks, the big white numbers scream 23:55pm. His eyes adjust to the bright screen after lying in the dark of his bedroom. He’s not sure why he navigates to the contacts list or why he hovers over ‘Angel’

But all rational thought left him the moment he picked up his first drink and then the phone is dialling and he’s holding it loosely against his ear.

“Hello, who is this?” the deep sleep voice asks.

“Well, depends who’s askin’?” Dean smirks

“Dean?!”

“Heya there good lookin’-“ he slurs in response.

“Are you drunk?”

“No,- “ Dean frowns “-Maybe, little bit.”

“Dean it’s really late.”

“M’sorry. –“ he really feels the need to fall asleep but its also overpowered by the pleasant thrill of Cas’ voice in his ear. “Cas will you com’ over?”

The phone goes dead against his ear and he mumbles ‘Cas’ a few times before he even realises Cas has hung up. “well fuck you too, arsehole.” He slurs, throwing his phone somewhere across the room.

Then a knock sounds at his front door, and he really should answer that but he bed is so comfortable and his muscles are relaxed in to this position.

The door creaks open and Dean drunkenly panics when he realises he didn’t lock it behind him except everything’s okay because Cas’ voice calls out. “You should fucking lock your door, you idiot.”

And all Dean can think is; ‘ _Cas, it’s Cas, Cas is here._ ’ And he wants to say that aloud but what comes out instead is “You hung up on me?" In a very drunkenly grumpy tone.

He tilts his head towards the door when Cas’ silhouette appears in the door frame, he can’t see a thing until Cas switches the light on which floods the whole bedroom in artificial lighting that burns his eyes, he moans and covers his eyes, squishing his glasses to his face.

“Why are you drunk Dean?” The voice starts far away but gets closer.

“you say it like m’not aloud?” he replies to his dark vision as his eyes stay clenched shut with his palms covering them.

“Answer the question.”

Cas sounds annoyed so he answers “I didn’t wanna think.”

“Think about what?” Cas huffs, and then he’s removing Dean’s boots and rolling down his socks.

The room gets filled with silence, and Dean considers his options, telling the truth or lying. His heart beats a little faster and he can feel the adrenaline shake through him.

“You.” He whispers and removes his hands, eyes opening. Cas is at the bottom of the bed, a sock hanging in one hand with his eyebrows raised. He’s wearing these cute pyjama bottoms with bears on them with a baggy jumper and he looks attractively adorable.

Which he must of accidently said out loud because Cas is laughing, the atmosphere changing from tense to something a little less awkward.

“Stop laughin’, arsehole.” Dean mumbles.

“Alright, alright, come on, bed time.” He moves around the bed and helps Dean take the rest of his clothes off so he’s down to his boxers. Then he’s tucking Dean in, placing his glasses on the bedside table and saying goodnight as he turns the bedroom light off and Dean is really fucking cosy and about to fall asleep before he realises that Cas is leaving and he really doesn’t want him to.

“Wait, wait, Cas.” He calls out to the darkness.

“What?”

“Don’t I get a goodnight kiss?”

Then Cas is back and leaning over him, the warmth of his body drapes over his own naked torso and he just wants to drag Cas under the covers with him. Cas plants a quick kiss to his lips that is totally unsatisfying and moves again to exit the room, except Dean holds on to his wrist and tugs.

“Dean-“ he starts

“Stay, please.”

And that’s how Cas ends up in bed with Dean on a Saturday night, he tries to keep a safe gap between them but Dean moves closer to throw his arm around the other man. He hears Cas laugh before his neighbour is turning him around again and wrapping his own arm around Dean so he’s the little spoon. Dean just hums happily and falls asleep.

He wakes up cold, alone and with a very annoying pounding in his head.

Shit, last night.

He turns to the empty space, the wrinkles in the sheet the only evidence that Cas was even here, he sighs heavily. He fucked up.

Just couldn’t fucking keep himself to himself whilst he was drunk, damn stupid crush, damn stupid irresistible neighbor.

He blindly grabs for his glasses on the table and puts them on then tries to search for his phone which is nowhere in sight. He vaguely remembers throwing it; he spots it over by the blue drapes.

When he finally retrieves the phone and is flopped back on the bed he opens up his messages. Debating if what he’s about to do is a good idea. He opens up new message and puts in Cas’ contact.

10:13AM **Dean :- why did you leave?**

10:16AM **Cas :- I didn’t think I would be welcome in the morning.**

10:16AM **Dean :- Well you’re wrong.**

10:17AM **Dean :- woke up grumpy and cold, I like cuddles yaknow.**

10:17AM **Dean :- if you tell anyone that… I will kill you.**

10:19AM **Cas :- oh I know exactly how much you love cuddles, and goodnight kisses apparently.**

Dean’s eyebrows shoot up and he groans at the memory.

10:20AM **Dean :- shut up. I hate you.**

10:20AM **Cas :- no you don’t.**

10:21AM **Dean :- No, I don’t.**

10:21AM **Dean :- I’m sorry bout last night man, if it makes things better, I’m really payin for it this morning.**

10:23AM **Cas :- shut up Dean, I left you some stuff on the bedside table.**

Dean twists his head to the right and spots the glass of water and two pills on the side. His mouth is as dry as the Sahara, he sighs in relief and picks the glass up, it’s lukewarm but it does the trick at moistening his throat. It’s the best feeling when the liquid glides down easily. He looks at the pills and pulls a face.

10:25AM **Dean :- DRUGS Cas? Really?**        

10:26AM **Cas:- oh shut up you loser, it’s just Tylenol.**

He sighs in relief and ignores the flutter of his stomach at the thought of Cas sneaking around in the early hours to leave him things to make him feel better. So maybe Cas isn’t that much of a douchebag after all.

10:27AM **Dean :- Thanks Cas**.

And that’s the start of it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so that's it for the smaller chapters, now on to some long ones :)
> 
> Please keep reading and leaving kudos  
> Thank you♥


	6. "Broken"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was so late, busy busy busssy... Another chapter on its way soon :)♥
> 
> also, this chapter is a little heavy, but this is probably as angsty as it will get (maybe).

"And I'd give up forever to touch you  
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow  
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be  
And I don't wanna go home right now  
  
And all I can taste is this moment  
And all I can breathe is your life  
When sooner or later it's over  
I just don't wanna miss you tonight"

♦Goo Goo Dolls - Iris♦

 

Things with Cas seem to get better and better and somehow they end up being what Dean would classify as ‘friends’. Which probably was a mistake as the hole in his chest seems to grow deeper and deeper the more he gets to know the dork next door. He wished his feelings had a goddamn off switch.

And it’s days like these when he really wished his stupid crush would disintegrate and disappear forever.

Cas keeps sending him these cute fucking cat pictures like Dean would even give a shit, fucking cats man. But he smiles every damn time the picture or video loads of the cutest kittens, fat cats, grumpy cats, silly cats, all different cats that make Dean giggle like a school girl. It gets to the point where he looks forward to Cas’ texts.

Talking to Cas becomes the highlight of his day.

He invites Cas over for dinner and beer and they end up falling asleep on the couch together and pretending it never happened the next day.

That happens regularly too.

And it so fricken confusing!

Every time they talk or see each other its like a new chapter of a book, they learn a little more about each other. Dean learns Castiel’s facial expressions for every mood he’s in, he remembers the eye crinkles when Cas is laughing too hard.

He learns Cas’ favorite music, favorite food, his love of animals and sweaters. He knows that Cas loves coffee just as much as he loves marijuana.

Cas even shows him the secret garden on the building’s rooftop (because apparently Cas is friends with the landlord which also explains why the landlord didn’t care about Dean's noise complaints weeks ago) where Cas likes to grow his own weed (it tastes better). He doesn’t like to buy anything that isn’t his own.

But that’s not the point, the point is; Dean is so messed up with his feelings.

Cas and him are starting to spend too much time together. Dean still thinks he hates the guy sometimes when he still has his crazy stoner parties and plays his music too loud (Even Dean stomping in there and turning it down doesn’t work anymore). They still argue about that and Dean never wins.

Dean is head over fucking heels for Castiel shit head Novak and it’s like Cas doesn’t give a rats arse. But he gives Dean so many mixed signals.

He flirts all the time, and leaves sloppy kisses on his cheeks, and likes to randomly climb into Dean’s lap and tease him with touch.

And they share each other’s bed sometimes because Cas gets these bad nightmares that he won’t talk to Dean about just asks him to come over and they fall asleep wrapped around each other. And sometimes he wakes up achingly hard but he just excuses himself to the bathroom. He never once grinds up against Cas like he so badly wants to.

Because Cas hasn’t indicated if he would like that or not.

The guys a bucket full of hot water that easily turns cold. He’s a labyrinth of emotions and he’s messing with Dean’s head.

And Dean is too damn chicken shit to ask what he wants or even take what he wants because even if Cas is a small group of annoying children wrapped in to one grown man, Dean knows he doesn’t want to lose him from his life.

They have too many good times and laughs to just let it get all fucked up.

♦

So he deals, and they become best friends, and Dean slowly finds himself on a downward spiral with his feelings because there’s no way they’re going away.

Dean’s coping mechanism is alcohol, so it’s like he is drunk all the time these days.

Apparently weed is Cas’ coping mechanism which Dean uncovers the backstory behind on one very strange Sunday…

Cas is over because he just randomly strolled in to Dean’s apartment with a grin and flopped down next to Dean on the couch, huffing at the humid weather and watching Star Trek with Dean.

Dean's gaze automatically follows Cas' as he gets up from the sofa thirty minutes later. He doesn't expect Cas to remove his shirt.

But that’s exactly what he does

He brings his arms to his hips and tugs his t-shirt up slowly, small parts of smooth tanned skin and tattoo’s revealed as he goes. Then the tops off and Cas takes a satisfied breath as he tosses the t-shirt on the back of the couch.

Dean's mouth waters a bit, he’s seen Cas topless before vaguely, he remembers. But not this close up. And he wasn’t really paying attention before now... Wow!

Cas truly is beautiful. He takes in Cas' smooth back and the way his muscles clench perfectly when he stretches a little. But what really gets his attention and makes him want to get up and touch, is the perfectly detailed black wings tattooed from his shoulder blades all the way down so the tips are tucked in to his ripped, baggy shorts, they probably end somewhere on his arse cheeks, fuckin' amazing.

But Dean needs to put an end to this before it ends bad.

"Cas put your shirt back on" Dean whines. Cas turns to face him and the mouth-watering process begins again, because Cas' front is just as perfect as the back. His tattoo sleeves blend in with all the tattoos down his front and it’s beautiful, they take all your attention away from the fact that Cas has his nipples pierced. And Dean moans to himself, he wants to play with those bars and lick around them, I bet Cas fucking loves that. His eyes linger there too long that he doesn’t really register Cas moving.

That is until he has a lap full of Cas. Cas straddles him on the couch with a lascivious smirk. He grinds his hips a little. "It’s hot in here." Cas whispers low and seductive.

Dean can’t help but bring his hands up to rest on his amazingly sharp yet sexy hipbones. They poke out beautifully and beg to be held on to.

"Cas get off me and put your goddamn shirt back on." Dean asks, his voice breaking a little as he holds on to any form of control. Ready to pounce and just ravish Cas.

Cas giggles, his eyes crinkling and smile wide. He's so goddamn pretty. He leans forward and pants in to Dean’s ear for a small fraction of seconds which seem so much longer. Then he grinds his hips down hard, hard enough to feel Dean’s now hard cock. And Dean yelps.

Not good. Not good. Not. Good. Shit.

Then Cas is gone. His body moves so quick that Dean doesn’t have time to appreciate the pressure on his dick. He wants it back but he takes a deep breath instead. “Such a fucking tease" he groans

Cas grins. "I love getting you all worked up like that." Then he pulls a dirty looking spliff out and Dean has to do a double take because what the actual heck?

“You are not lighting that up in here.” Dean huffs.

“Oh fuck off Dean.” Cas replies bitterly and his tone makes Dean cringe, Cas hasn’t been angry at him like this since his last party.

“This isn’t your place Cas, _you_ can fuck off if you don’t like it, I’m not having my apartment stink of that shit.”

“Sorry I forgot mommy and daddy like to visit and you don’t want them to think their little angel is a messed up stoner who has a dumpster load of fucking fucked up problems running around his head.” Cas bites back, he’s staring down at the joint, lighter held loosely in his other hand.

“What the fuck is your problem man?”

“My problem-“ Cas looks up at him and they lock eyes. “-Is that I need to fucking smoke this _shit_ as you so pleasantly put a minute ago, to let me lose a little bit of control and keep me sane because I’m struggling to fucking contain myself right now.”

Cas’ eyes go a little hazy and Dean swears it looks like his friend is about to cry, his stomach hurts in guilt and empathy. He brings a hand up to Cas’ shoulder and squeezes lightly, his argument forgotten. “Hey, talk to me?”

Cas sighs, his eyes dropping, his playful smile from earlier long gone. He looks miserable. The melancholy fills the atmosphere and hits Dean, He’s sad for Cas because he cares. “Michael won’t leave me alone.”

“That douchebag from the mail boxes a month ago?” Dean frowns, he remembers that arsehole, the way he spoke to Cas, like they had history. It makes Dean feel a deep hatred.

“He’s my ex.” Cas whispers and Dean wants to find the guy and punch the shit out of him because he needs to stay away from Cas right the fuck now. “-He keeps trying to call or text and shows up randomly at the apartment, he even phoned my brother last week to see what I was doing…”

“I swear to god, I will kill him.”

“Dean, I-“ Cas’ voice breaks and it makes Dean shift on the couch, he swings an arm round Cas’ bare shoulders and pulls his half naked friend in to a hug.

“Why won’t he leave you alone?”

Cas shudders at the question, he’s avoiding something and Dean doesn’t want to push him but how can he help his friend if he doesn’t know what is going on.

“We were happy, at the start. You know I was studying Religious Education at KU, I had a job at this little café…-“ He stops, his face scrunched up and his gaze long as if he was remembering it. “- Michael was in one of my classes, a couple years older, I thought he was the world and everything in it. And it was great, it was so great Dean, the sappy bullshit and the sex. But Michael started to change, I started coming home later near exams and he would be so angry…” He breaks off with a small sob.

It makes Dean’s heart clench and he can almost feel his own blood boiling with fury because he doesn’t like where this story is heading. “Did he hurt you Cas?”

“Nothing too bad, just a few punches, urm and shoving, I woke up with memory loss a few times…”

“For fucks sake, nothing too bad my arse, that’s domestic abuse Cas!”

“I know, I know that now, but at the time I was so caught up in it all because I thought I fucking loved him, he was all I had.”

“Family, your brothers?”

“We weren’t getting along back then, Gabriel was the one who ended up talking some sense in to me over the phone, but I couldn’t go running to him and I couldn’t go home.”

“Because of your sexual preferences and their religion?”

“Yes.”

Cas let out a sigh and buried himself deeper in to the couch, bringing Dean with him so they were curled around one another, Dean squeezed him tightly, a protective shield of warmth. Cas would always be safe here.

“And that’s why you turned to drugs, alcohol and meaningless sex?”

Cas nodded against him. “It’s comforting, the drugs and alcohol numb you enough so you don’t feel anything, and the sex provides pleasure without stupid feelings.”

“Well that explains it.”

“Can we not talk about this anymore please?”

“Anything you need Cas.”

“Just this.” Cas practically whispered, turning his face in to Dean’s neck and inhaling.

And Dean could hold off on pulling away, he can ignore these mixed signals for now because his friend needed him. He just learnt so much about Cas in only one short story. The man lying under him needed so much more than drugs, sex and alcohol, he needed comfort and protection.

 

♦

 

Dean had an idea for Cas’ Michael problem.

Cas was willing to let him ‘entertain himself’ as he put it or as Dean said ‘give it a try’.

“It will work Cas.” Dean exclaimed as he made himself comfy on Cas’ dirty brown, leather sofa.

“No it wont Dean, but sure, knock yourself out.”

“Come on now, I’m quite scary when I want to be.”

“Yeah, scary as a kitten maybe.” Cas smirked as he joined Dean. Dean chose to ignore the fact that Cas could of picked one of the four other places to sit in the small living area.

“So when’s the arsehat due to make his next appearance?” Dean clicked at the buttons on the tv remote searching through the shitty channels, scrunching his nose at the uncanny aroma floating around the room probably from leftover weed smoke.

“Well so far he seems to favor Monday’s, Thursday’s and Friday’s, around sixish for either a phone call or an unwelcome visit.” Cas grimaced, leaning in to Dean and slouching down so his head was practically on Dean’s shoulder.

“Almost show time then.”

The phone rang at 6:07 pm on that Monday afternoon. It was gloomy outside and the atmosphere was tense.

Cas answered his cell and put it on loud speak for Dean to hear.

“I’m so glad you keep answering me Angel.” Michaels voice carried through the speaker and diffused itself around the room.

“Michael please leave me alone. Now really is not the time nor will it ever be.”

Dean was about to jump in but Michaels next words made his anger reach a new level.

“Come’on angel, you always have time for me, in fact, I’m right outside, let me in and we can have an amazing time like the good ol’ days.”

Dean’s blood was racing around his body, Michael was testing his limits, he wasn’t going to allow him or anyone talk to Cas like that or show up uninvited, it was time to put an end to this bullshit.

Dean pushed himself up from the sofa, and rushed to the door without little thought on the matter, his brain set on the mission to get this fuckface out of Cas’ life forever. He vaguely felt Cas rush after him, calling his name but it didn’t really register.

He pulled the door open to reveal Michaels smug smile which dropped as soon as he saw Dean.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?”

“None of your business.”

“Well that’s a load of crap, when are you going to get it in your head that he doesn’t want you no more.”

Dean is so close to punching the condescending look off his face. And he totally would if it wasn’t for Cas plastering himself to his back, strong tattooed arms coming around his waist and a firm chin resting on his shoulder, soft hair tickling his cheek.

Michael stares at them, his smile fading away again, realization on his face.

“I want you to leave me alone Michael.” Cas states softly, his deep voice hitting something in Dean that makes his stomach jump in a weird yet likable sensation.

Michael moves his gaze from Cas to Dean, his eyes locked in a firm stare, mouth straight, “He used to hold me like that.” He mutters, his intention clear on hurting Dean and it almost works. There was a time when Michael was Cas’ everything, and Cas’ has probably done a lot more than snuggle up to the other guy, it shouldn’t bother Dean, after all, this is just an act. Cas isn’t his boyfriend.

Except that doesn’t stop Dean from wishing that he was.

“Not anymore.” Dean smirks, keeping up the façade, and just to piss Michael off and hurt him back a little more he turns and presses the softest kiss to Cas’ cheek.

“Please leave now Michael.” Cas says in a more firm tone.

“Y-yeah, okay, I-I didn’t realize this-“He points between the two of them. “- was so serious, I’m going. You won’t hear from me no more. Message received, loud and clear.” And he practically runs down the hallway, in to the push door.

Dean turns in victory, smile wide. “Told ya it’d work!”

Cas squints “You didn’t do anything.”

Dean registers that Cas’ hands are still around his waist, and there’s a very small gap between them, and the door is still hanging wide open, fresh air pressed up against his back.

“Hey now, I did a lot.”

“Not really mister testosterone.”

“Well if I’m just going to be insulted,-“ he points to the door, making his intent clear.

But Cas doesn’t really reply, just mumbles then brings his hands up and pushs Dean towards him, there fronts pushed together. It almost knocks the breath out of Dean… a hug?

Well okay.

Dean wraps his arms tight around Cas and squeezes. “Thank you.” Cas whispers against his shoulder, breath hot through his t-shirt. And Dean really wants to lean down and kiss him. Push his tongue in to his mouth and shove him up against the door, show him how amazing he is and how deserving he is. Show him that Michael is nothing but a lowlife.

But then Cas moves away, wiggles his eyebrows at Dean and pulls a joint from his pocket, “Wanna celebrate?” he asks.

And the moment is over and Dean sort of thinks maybe he can’t quite save Cas from everything. So he follows Cas in to the living room, and for the first time in his life; he gets high.

 


End file.
